undeniable 2
by The-Despondent-Insomniac
Summary: They watched them from the doorway and they knew- without a shadow of a doubt that what those two had was undeniable. **PAIRE** companion piece to "undeniable"
1. Chapter 1

**This one is slightly different from the rest, where they were actual scenes i adapted slightly this one is AU in that peters went back to new York with Caitlin to find his past instead of going to the future or to Montreal. Naturally it is a paire, or an implied paire at least. **

**Caitlin**

So that was Claire was it? She was blonde. She should have known. I was always the blondes, always the gorgeous, small, perfect blondes that got the man. _Her_ man.

But peter wasn't hers she realised, she had known it the second his eyes had met the teary ones of his _niece_ and he had immediately rushed forward to pull her into his arms and murmur her name into her hair over and over again.

Claire.

Not Caitlin, never in that voice had he whispered Caitlin, always Claire.

He had whimpered in his sleep the few nights they had spent together in cork and the only distinct thing she could make out was "Claire" Every night it was Claire he called for in his tortured sleep.

She had looked into that box, the one she had encouraged him not to open, she had seen a picture of peter and some blonde girl; arms wrapped around each other tightly, smiles bright enough to blind and eyes locked on the other. She had prayed that the girl wasn't Claire when he had first whispered her name in his sleep, she had hoped with all her heart that Claire was just some past flame that had long since burned out, but now she knew she was wrong. Claire was much more than that. And she wasn't going anywhere.

She knew it was over the second peter turned his eyes on her, his arms were still wrapped around his niece as hers were around him and his head rested atop hers while she buried her face in his neck and cried softy.

His eyes had changed she realised. In cork they had always been dark and haunted, as if she was missing something. Here, with Claire in his arms they had lightened significantly- to an almost golden colour and the light that had been absent suddenly shone from them like a beacon. He had been tough, almost cold in Ireland; he had managed to pull off the part of thug in Ricky's gang perfectly because of it. No emotion. He wouldn't be able to do that anymore, he was soft now, gentle and warm as he reverently touched Claire's cheek to make her look up at him from her place glued to his chest.

His memories were back, she knew that too, he had remembered everything about his old life the second he had seen Claire. Maybe because _she_ had been that life. He was still ignoring the rest of his family gathered in the room, what she assumed to be his mother brother and sister or sister in law were all standing in the doorway next to her conversing quietly. Nathan- as she heard the brother being called- looked as if he wanted to rush forward and either deck peter or hug him but was being restrained by who she was sure was his wife by a hand on his arm and a murmur of "let Claire see him, you know how she's been" the mother was simply standing there watching them impassively- showing no emotion whatsoever and not sparing Caitlin a glance.

One thing Caitlin noticed was that not one of them seemed bothered by the closeness of niece and uncle. Maybe things were different here in America but surely they must see that they were unnaturally close, even if peter had been thought dead for a while, no niece should be reacting like that. But then she remembered the photo. And Peter's eyes. And his smile. They had all changed, all lit up and transformed into something magic at the sight and feel of Claire. They must all be used to it and couldn't see a difference; either that or they were one majorly fucked up family. She couldn't deny it though. Peter belonged to Claire. After all, it was always the blondes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, so this is nothing like what i had originally planned and I'm not even too sure about it. But it's written now so it's getting posted. I hope you all like it, feel free to point out any typos or bad grammar/punctuation to me, I've been getting really lazy with it lately and it's driving me nuts. Leave me a review if you have the time. Thanks everyone for reading this, it means a lot. As usual i don't own any of it._

_Xoxox_

_Becca _

**Andy**

They've been together nearly three years now Andy thinks as he watches his girlfriend move fluidly around the small diner they both work at. Quietly he walks up behind her and hears the last few lyrics of the song she is singing to herself fade away. Her songs puzzle him; he may not have be the smartest tool in the shed but still, it seemed to him that someone as happy and cheerful as Sandra shouldn't be writing such sad heartfelt songs.

Placing his hands on her shoulders gently- knowing how easily startled she is- and feeling her immediately tense up before slowly relaxing again and turning to face him Andy wonders- not for the first time recently what it is that Sandra has to be so on edge about. She turns to face him and immediately her mouth curves upwards in a smile; it is all teeth- lips stretched back forcing them to be exposed to him. Her eyes stay wary and alert. He leans down slightly and gently places his lips over hers, she immediately responds and kisses him back. He studies her face as he pulls away; her eyes had stayed open, her body still coiled- ready to move (run he thinks) at any moment. She smiles at him again and he has to wonder just how real anything about her really is. He knows her hair is fake, he found the bottle once. He sees now that her smile is fake. What else? He wonders. Is her name fake too? The parents she had briefly introduced him to that moved to New Zealand two weeks later? How about their relationship. Is that fake too? A part of her cover?

A cover for what he doesn't know. Not until two weeks later anyway when FBI agents swarm the diner looking for "Claire Bennet"

Sandra is the one who answers them- with gunfire and cursing. Andy has never heard Sandra curse, not in the whole three years they have been together. He didn't even know that Sandra had ever touched a gun before- let alone knew how to use it like something from a TV show. She leaps over the diner counter straight towards the leader of the team- Parkman he said his name was- and without even breaking into a sweat knocks most of the team out with a series of roundhouse kicks and flying fists and feet. Andy doesn't believe what he is seeing. This is his girlfriend. Sandra; bubbly, outgoing, everybody's- best-friend _Sandra_.

Sandra doesn't know how to handle a gun, she doesn't curse, she doesn't take out FBI agents as though it were an everyday occurrence and she certainly doesn't spit bullets back up after just having them shot into her body. This is not Sandra, Andy realises. Sandra never existed. This is Claire Bennet.

The room starts to warp as Andy tries to keep his eyes on Claire; it is almost like a heat mirage has filled the room making everything slightly blurred and wavy for a few seconds. Those seconds are all it takes it seems. The heat haze clears and all the agents are on the floor, Claire is standing in the middle of the deserted diner and a man is at her side.

She finishes spitting a final bullet from her mouth and glances up at the man beside her. Andy watches from the kitchen doorway where he had been crouched hiding behind the counter. Her reaction is instantaneous; her eyes seem to glow as a light Andy had not noticed was missing suddenly burned bright, making the emerald in them leap and dance._ Life_. Her chin comes up and her back straightens unconsciously. _Dignity_. Her body relaxes as all the tension and rigidity Andy knows from her seeps away. _Security_. Finally, a smile flows across her face; there are no teeth in this one. Her lips curve upwards slowly and gently, her face softens and her eyes crease ever so slightly at the corners as she looks up at the man who has appeared next to her. _Love._

His reaction is less obvious to anyone not paying attention: His dark chocolate eyes lighten to gold and his shoulders relax slightly. His scarred face remains impassive as he and Claire make eye contact but after a moment a slow grin makes its way across his lips, moulding them gently upwards in one corner creating a boyish crooked grin. More suited on a dreaming artist than a supposed terrorist Andy thinks but lets the thought go in favour of watching the couple in the middle of the diner who are now staring at each other with such intensity that he almost feels the need to turn away.

Claire continues to stare at the stranger (to Andy) for a heartbeat or two in silence while he holds her gaze. His face once again unreadable as far as Andy can tell. It seems Claire is a different story however; she is suddenly laughing and her smile is so bright Andy is surprised the whole of Texas isn't blinded by it. Her arms are going around the stranger's neck and she is burying her face in his chest. His arms are around her, holding her as close as he possibly can. His mouth is by her ear, mumbling quiet words and pressing gentle kisses into her hair. Sandra. No, Claire pulls back and looks up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. One spills over and he immediately reaches up to cup her face and brushes it slowly away. Another tear falls but this one he kisses away and she gasps slightly and leans back to search his eyes. The rest of the tears go unnoticed by them both, his mouth is on hers and she is clinging to him- returning the kiss with everything she has.

The air starts to shimmer again; the heat haze once again fills the diner. Andy tries to keep his eyes on Claire and just manages to see through the mirage her hair momentarily turn blonde and slightly curly. The man's scar disappears and his slicked back hair is replaced by messy locks falling in his face, he is wearing a beige trench coat and slacks while Claire's work uniform is suddenly replaced by a red and white cheerleading outfit.

Andy hears Claire laugh lightly in a way she never has for him- freely and happily- while calling out the strangers name in a joking and reprimanding way "peter!" he watches them disappear and can't quite bring himself to feel any anger toward either of them, especially Sandra/Claire. He couldn't deny the two of them were meant to be together and who was he to get in the way of that?

Looking around the diner though he sighs. They could have at least helped clear up, how was he meant to explain the two dozen unconscious FBI agents to his boss?


End file.
